In An Alternate Universe ~ The Prequel

Chapter 4 ~ Harry Potter Meets Severus Snape

Many Years Later

Harry had just met Ron Weasley on the Hogwarts Express. He was on his way to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry for the first time and was happy to have made a friend right out.

They had a good time eating the Every Flavor Beans. Harry got toast, coconut, baked bean, strawberry, curry, grass, coffee, sardine, and was even brave enough to nibble the end off a funny gray one Ron wouldn't touch, which turned out to be pepper.

The countryside now flying past the window was becoming wilder. The neat fields had gone. Now there were woods, twisting rivers, and dark green hills.

There was a knock on the door of their compartment and the round-faced boy Harry had passed on platform nine and three quarters came in. He looked tearful.

"Sorry," he said, "but have you seen a toad at all?"

When they shook their heads, he wailed, "I've lost him! He keeps getting away from me!"

"He'll turn up," said Harry.

"Yes," said the boy miserably. "Well, if you see him..."

He left.

"Don't know why he's so bothered," said Ron. "If I'd brought a toad I'd lose it as quick as I could. Mind you, I brought Scabbers, so I can't talk."

The rat was still snoozing on Ron's lap.

"He might have died and you wouldn't know the difference," said Ron in disgust. "I tried to turn him yellow yesterday to make him more interesting, but the spell didn't work. I'll show you, look..."

He rummaged around in his trunk and pulled out a very battered-looking wand. It was chipped in places and something white was glinting at the end.

"Unicorn hair's nearly poking out. Anyway . . .”

He had just raised his 'wand when the compartment door slid open again.

The toadless boy was back, but this time he had another boy with him. He was already wearing his new Hogwarts robes.

"Has either of you seen a toad? Neville's lost one," he said. He was very pale with silky black hair, and a quiet but authoritative voice as if he expected an immediate answer.

"We've already told him we haven't seen it," said Ron, but the boy wasn't listening, he was looking at the wand in his hand.

"Are you doing magic? This ought to be—interesting."

He sat down. Ron looked taken aback.

"Er -- all right."

He cleared his throat.

"Sunshine, daisies, butter mellow, Turn this stupid, fat rat yellow."

He waved his wand, but nothing happened. Scabbers stayed gray and fast asleep.

"Are you sure that's a real spell?" said the boy. "It's not very good. I've cast a few simple spells just for practice and they worked for me. I was quite pleased when I received my letter for Hogwarts. It’s the best school for wizardry there is. I’ve already learned my course books by memory. It should be enough. I’m Severus Snape. Who are you two?”

He said all this very matter-of-factly, as if it were something they should know.

Harry looked at Ron, and was relieved to see by his stunned face that he hadn't learned all the course books by memory either.

"I'm Ron Weasley," Ron muttered.

"Harry Potter," said Harry.

"Really?" said Severus, studying him as if he were something he’d like to dissect. "I know about you.e – You're in Modern Magical History, the Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts and Great Wizarding Events of the Twentieth Century.”

"Am I?" said Harry, feeling dazed.

"I’d think you’d know that. If it were me, I’d be sure find out what books I was in, to make sure everything was accurate," said Snape rather disdainfully. "Have either of you thought about the house you’ll be sorted into? I’ve done some research and I’m hoping for Gryffindor, although Ravenclaw would do in a pinch. Anyway, we'd better continue the toad-hunting. You two need to change. We’ll be at the castle soon.”

And he left, taking the toadless boy with him.

"Whatever house I'm in, I hope he's not in it," said Ron.

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Having taken boats to Hogwarts castle, the first years were rushed to get ready to be sorted. Feeling oddly as though his legs had turned to lead, Harry got into line behind a boy with sandy hair, with Ron behind him, and they walked out of the chamber, back across the hall, and through a pair of double doors into the Great Hall.

Harry had never even imagined such a strange and splendid place. It was lit by thousands and thousands of candles that were floating in midair over four long tables, where the rest of the students were sitting. These tables were laid with glittering golden plates and goblets. At the top of the hall was another long table where the teachers were sitting.
Professor McGonagall led the first years up here, so that they came to a halt in a line facing the other students, with the teachers behind them. The hundreds of faces staring at them looked like pale lanterns in the flickering candlelight. Dotted here and there among the students, the ghosts shone misty silver. Mainly to avoid all the staring eyes, Harry
looked upward and saw a velvety black ceiling dotted with stars.

He heard Snape whisper, "It’s bewitched to look like the sky outside. The information is in Hogwarts, A History."

After a rather long and horribly sung song by the Sorting Hat, the students walked up to the dais one after the other, had the ugly hat placed on their heads, then the name of their house shouted to the world.

Sometimes, Harry noticed, the hat shouted out the house at once, but at others it took a little while to decide. "Finnigan, Seamus," the sandy-haired boy next to Harry in the line, sat on the stool for almost a whole minute before the hat declared him a Gryffindor.

"Snape, Severus!"

Severus walked up to the stool with purpose, sat down on it and jammed the hat down on his head.

"GRYFFINDOR!" shouted the hat.

Ron groaned.

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After the sorting, and a speech by Albus Dumbledore puncutuate by warnings, the student and teachers had a sumptuous buffet style dinner. Ron was inhaling food on the right of Harry. On Harry's other side, Percy Weasley and Snape were talking about lessons

("I hope they start classes right away. There's so much to learn. I'm particularly interested in Potions. It's supposed to be very difficult-";

"You'll be starting small, just making bases and that sort of thing -- ").

Harry, who was starting to feel warm and sleepy, looked up at the High Table again. Hagrid was drinking deeply from his goblet. Professor McGonagall was talking to Professor Dumbledore. Professor Quirrell, in his absurd turban, was talking to a teacher with bushy brown hair, a pinched face, and rather narrowed eyes.

It happened very suddenly.

The narrow-eyed teacher looked past Quirrell's turban straight into Harry's eyes -- and a sharp, hot pain shot across the scar on Harry's forehead.

"Ouch!" Harry clapped a hand to his head.

"What is it?" asked Percy.

"N-nothing."

The pain had gone as quickly as it had come. Harder to shake off was the feeling Harry had gotten from the teacher's look -- a feeling that she didn't like Harry at all.

"Who's that teacher talking to Professor Quirrell?" he asked Percy.

"Oh, you know Quirrell already, do you? No wonder he's looking so nervous, that's Professor Granger. She teaches Potions, but she doesn't want to -- everyone knows she's after Quirrell's job. Knows an awful lot about the Dark Arts, Granger."

Harry watched Granger for a while, but Granger didn't look at him again.

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A/N: Thanks for reading